


In Waking Dreams

by Fragile_Teacup (Pale_Skin_and_Fragile_Bones)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dream Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, or so Will thinks...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pale_Skin_and_Fragile_Bones/pseuds/Fragile_Teacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal appears to Will, and considering it's only a dream easily coaxes his companion into accepting some much needed attention. Only a dream...</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Waking Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> So this horrible little plot bunny struck from the shadows and attacked without mercy. I wouldn't be able to sleep unless this was finished, and ended up with it completed an hour or so before work. Not beta read, so please forgive any errors made. My most humble thank you for reading this, and I hope you enjoy. <3

It isn't the shift in weight on his bed that wakes Will Graham, nor the hushed calling of his name by a familiar voice. Not really. These things help pull the empath closer to consciousness, but it's the sensation of something soft and warm against his fevered skin that jolts him awake. Opening his eyes Will fights against the pitch black of the hotel room, tries to make sense of the shape over him in the darkness. “What-”

“Good evening, Will.” Hannibal's voice doesn't raise above the tone he used to help wake up the brunet. Dexterous fingers tangle into Will's hair, tug lightly to guide him to tip his head back against the pillow. 

“Doctor Lecter?” The edge of apprehension in Will's question tugs at something within Hannibal. Something the killer has yet to fully understand the scope of. Instead of replying verbally Hannibal trails his lips slowly up the pale throat exposed to him, moving from base to pulse point. He can feel the other man's heartbeat fluttering beneath his lips, and the sensation is simply...divine. 

“What are you doing? How did you even get here?” Will reaches up, fingers tangling in the crisp fabric of Hannibal's shirt as he fights the urge to either shove his friend away or pull him closer. He isn't exactly sure which one. Will's half awake mind struggles with the concept of how Hannibal is even present, yet alone what is happening. The grip on strong shoulders tightens a bit more as a light bite is given to Will's jaw. 

“Please, call me Hannibal. We've moved beyond the point of such propriety, wouldn't you agree?” A hand slips beneath Will's t-shirt, pushing the fabric upwards to expose more skin. Hannibal gives a pleased little hum as Will's back arches enough to help aid in this act. One final adjustment and tug and the offending garment is off. A slight tremor moves through Will briefly. 

“Am I...” More kisses are being placed upon the brunet's stomach, and it makes it terribly hard to focus. “Am I dreaming? Hallucinating?”

“I would think so, this is hardly something within my behavior.” Blunt nails scrape along Will's ribs, and he squirms a bit beneath Hannibal. “Permit this dream to occur, it is nowhere near as harmful as your nightmares.”

The sound reasoning is a ghost of breath against Will's stomach. Nodding he relaxes, takes a deep breath that shifts quickly into a startled moan as a wicked tongue flicks over a nipple. “Hannibal-”

It is a sweet punishment when Hannibal's teeth scrape gently over the sensitive flesh. Will is perfectly responsive, and is rewarded by the same treatment to his other nipple. The hold on Hannibal's shoulders moves to his biceps, and Will begins to pull his companion closer. “Don't stop. Please.”

Hannibal frowns for a moment at the clear tremor in Will's voice. The fear of being rejected is nearly palpable. “I will not, do not indulge that thought any further. You need physical contact, Will. Affection. You deserve it and have been grievously deprived of it.”

One last kiss is pressed to the empath's stomach before Hannibal hooks his fingers into the waistband of Will's boxers. He moves achingly slow, giving time to protest if Will changes his mind. None is given, and Dr. Lecter removes the last bit of clothing. Permits himself to trace his hands over the smooth places of Will's body. How often has he thought of this very scenario? Perhaps a bit too often, but the vulnerable man is within his grasp now and he has no intentions of letting go. Hannibal moves down a bit, settling himself between minutely shaking legs. A kiss is given to each inner thigh. “Do you trust me, Will?”

“Yes...please- ah!” Anything further the sensitive creature may have considered saying is lost once Hannibal takes the head of his cock into his mouth. Nervous fingers are back on the doctor's shoulders, and Will's head tips back further as he struggles to breathe and keep silent. There's no telling how thick or thin the hotel walls are. 

It makes perfect sense this would only be a dream. He's trapped on a case with Jack, stuck at this hotel until he is needed. Useful. 

Hannibal starts a smooth, steady pace; pausing every once in awhile to swipe his tongue along the underside of Will's cock. Or to bring more focus onto the head. Will pulls a hand away to clamp over his mouth, pleas and whimpers stifled by the motion. Pity. Hannibal knows the sounds would be beautiful unfiltered. Just for this he doubles his efforts, shoving Will to the brink before pausing. He has to hear his voice, a beg for mercy, before he will continue. 

“Wh-why did you stop?”

“I need to hear you beg for me, Will.” Hannibal's tone brooks no argument. “If you wish me to continue I want you to beg properly.”

Will swallows the hard lump forming in his throat. He can feel the heat rushing to his face in embarrassment. “I- do I have to?” 

“Yes...” the word is mere centimeters from Will, and what little pride the deprived man has is pushed to the side for what he needs. “Please Hannibal...”

“Please what?” The good doctor won't let Will off so easily.

“Please continue, please let me come...”

“Do you need it Will?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need me?” At this point Hannibal is more lightly torturing than anything.

“Yes! Please! Please I can't-”

Will nearly keens as mercy is taken on him, and with a soft cry of 'Hannibal' he stiffens beneath his lover. The doctor swallows and pulls away to retrieve a towel. Staring up at the ceiling sleepily Will is momentarily startled when Hannibal cleans him up and helps him get his boxers back on. Only one question is on the brunet's mind. 

“Why?”

The query remains unanswered, and Will feels himself begin to drift back to sleep.


End file.
